


Together

by Aegrimonia



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Hurt/Comfort, Leukemia, Set in real life, Tommy helps him through it, Tubbo gets cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28974192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aegrimonia/pseuds/Aegrimonia
Summary: The doctor says it’s not as uncommon as people think as if that’s supposed to make Toby feel better about dying.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a bit of a sucker for bad things happen bingo so... uh... I’m sorry.

The doctor says it’s not as uncommon as people think as if that’s supposed to make Toby feel better about dying. 

It’s some kind of leukemia, but Toby’s never been good with big words and the doctor seems more interested in talking to his mom then him.

So, he sits.

Sits on those uncomfortable office chairs and watches his mother try not to cry and feels a growing sense of nausea settle in his stomach. It doesn’t feel real right now, but he knows it will soon and he has no idea what the hell he’s going to do. 

When they drive home he’s quiet, much quieter then usual, and he can tell his mom wants to say something, _anything_ , about what just happened but Toby imagines she’s in the same sort of dead shock as he is, unable to piece together that her son is dying.

Well, maybe dying.

30% chance of survival. Better then some cancers, worse then others. Toby loves and hates the number in equal measure. On one hand it’s hope, hope that this isn’t the _end_ , but on the other. Sometimes false hope is worse then no hope at all because what if Toby fights and he claws and he hopes and it’s all for nothing?

The silence in the car is suffocating.

His mom pulls the car into the drive way and neither of them moves, each one wondering if it was even possible to find the right words in this kind of situation. His mother starts to speak and suddenly it’s all too much.

“Toby, I—“

“I’m gonna head inside,” Toby interrupts, not meeting her eyes, “I’ll, I’ll, uh, call Tommy I think, play some Minecraft. It’s Tuesday, y’know, I said I was gonna stream today and it doesn’t seem fair to just leave them hanging,” He’s rambling now, “I’ve kept up a good streak for nearly two weeks, can’t drop the ball just because—“ Toby stutters, “Just because I, because I’m...”

He falls silent and his mom stares, full of sorrow and pity and emotions that remind him how _heavy_ everything feels right now.

The car door opens with a pitiful thud and he leaves, walks inside without another word or glance to his mom, determined to make it up to his room without breaking down. Part of him feels lucky no one else is home. The rest of him just hurts.

He makes it upstairs just as the sound of his mother entering the house behind him reaches his ears and he hears more then sees her collapse into a chair at the kitchen table, a stack of documents about the next step and options thumping onto the wood. 

Toby shakes his head and slips inside his room. Setting up stream is a familiar routine, calming in some senses as he mindlessly walks through the steps he’s taken a billion times before. He only falters just before he clicks to go live.

_Can I really do this? Less then thirty minutes ago my life got turned upside down and I’m going to... stream. Act like everything’s alright._

He decides that, yes, he is going to do that. Why the hell shouldn’t he? After everything that has been shoved down his throat the last few hours doesn’t _he_ deserve something that he chose, that _he_ made?

His decision solidifies, and with one last deep breath, he starts the stream.

The music begins to play and gradually, one by one, viewers tick on to the starting soon screen.

1000, 2000, 5000, 10000

After a few minutes the number evens out around 14 thousand, fluctuating up and down a bit as everyone gets settled.

A good starting number.

Tommy and Wilbur aren’t on so it’ll probably jump to 50 or 60 thousand in the next few minutes.

“Hey, chat!” Tubbo grins, flipping from the opening screen to his camera, “What’s the plan today, huh? Little SMP? Maybe some OTV? How we feelin, how we feelin, chat?”

He laughs, “The subs in already! Thank you so much you wonderful lot, we getting pretty close to the sub goal. Cooking stream soon then?”

The chat begins to fly by, nearly unreadable as more and more viewers click on.

“Tommy? Do I see some Tommy’s in the chat? I don’t know if he’s on you guys. I don’t think he’s streaming today but I can give him a call, if you’d like. Yeah?”

The chat buzzes in violent agreement of his suggestion and Tubbo pulls up discord, navigating to Tommy.

His hands are shaking.

The call hardly rings for a second or two before Tommy’s picked up.

“Tubbo! Hey!” His voice is as bright and loud as always.

“Tommy!” His grin widens, “Streaming, by the way.”

“I know, I know. I got the notification, big man.”

Tubbo gets playfully defensive, “I was just double checking. Better safe then sorry.”

With Tommy on call, Tubbo’s stream flies by like it always does. Hours passing away easily between the banter and play.

When the end finally comes, Tubbo finds himself torn between his exhaustion and the realization that once this ends he has to face reality again.

He can’t stream forever though, and he can tell Tommy’s getting suspicious of his behavior. With a finally goodbye to his viewers Toby shuts off the stream and slumps in his chair.

He sits there in silence until Tommy speaks, “Uh, Toby? You still there?”

Toby jolts in his chair and leans forward, adjusting his headphones, “Yeah. Uh. Yeah, I’m still here. Sorry.”

“You’re good, man.”

The pair fall into another strange silence as Toby fights wars with himself. He wants to hold on to as much normal as he can, but Tommy is his best friend. God knows if Toby needs anything right now it’s his best friend.

Tommy breaks the silence again, softer then usual, “Is everything alright?”

Toby scrubs his hands across his face, hunching down in his chair, “I don’t—I’m not really,” he takes a deep breath, “No. It’s not.”

“What’s going on?” Tommy sounds worried. He hides it well enough but Toby can hear the waver in his tone.

“I, uh, I went to that doctors appointment today. Got up early and everything—“ Toby laughs and Tommy laughs with him, “—and... they did a bunch of tests. I didn’t really know what was going on until they took me and my mom aside at the end.”

Toby stops, fighting a wave of nausea. Tommy fills the silence awkwardly.

“What did they tell you?”

Toby tries not to think to hard as he replies, voice monotone, “I have cancer.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath form Tommy, “Shit.”

He laughs again, but this time Tommy stays hauntingly silent, “Uh, yeah. Shit. It’s... I wasn’t paying all that much attention after that, but it’s some kind of Leukemia. 30% survival rate so I might not—“ Toby stutters, “I might not...” As he drifts off Tommy says what he was too afraid to.

“You might not die.”

Toby flinches and buries his head in his hands, tears pricking at his eyes, “I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do, Toms. It hasn’t even hit me yet. Not really. I came home and I just... started streaming, like there wasn’t a 70% chance I could be dead in the next year.”

“It’s not—you’re not going to die, Toby,” Tommy sounds far more confident then Toby feels, “Listen to me, okay? You’re not gonna fuckin—fuckin pass away or some shit. We’re gonna handle this. Together.”

Toby takes a shuddering breath, letting himself borrow Tommy’s confidence and bury the panic that’s threatening to overwhelm him, “Okay, Tommy.” 

He takes a deep breath.

“Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Therapy is available in the comments.
> 
> Also if you’re interested in a pt.2 let me know!


End file.
